


Let's Play House

by motoroilfreeway



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Horror, M/M, Supernatural - Freeform, aaah but tagging stuff will spoil it >_, starts with9 yr old aoba and 13 yr old koujack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-01-21 08:55:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1545002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/motoroilfreeway/pseuds/motoroilfreeway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The house eats people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired from my flatmate's 1yr old son. Kind of got the idea from him crying and holding his hands out to me from their room where he can't get out because of the divider blocking the door which is a little over my knees. He wanted to play with me some more but its past his bed time and I need to study //laughs
> 
> oh and also an episode of Jackie Chan Adventures lol
> 
> UNBETA'ED

It only took Koujaku a few days after moving from the mainland to Midorijima to get used to the residential district and how the place works. He even met a lot of kids his age and they set up a time and place to meet every day just to hang out or do stupid things kids his age are usually curious about.

 

The things these kids do are crazy, way beyond the crazy things kids in the mainland do for fun and to pass their time. He tacked it to the fact that Midorijima is a place way different than the mainland and accepted things as that.

 

Midorijima is a place way different than the mainland in a lot of ways.

 

Danger lurks almost everywhere. It was honestly dangerous to walk around with your guard down in some places, but that doesn’t happen much in the residential district. The kids told Koujaku that the place he’s looking for is the west.

 

And it’s a relief, really. He wouldn’t want to wake up every morning and worry over his mother whenever she leaves for work if that is the case. At least, from what he heard, people here knows when a line is about to be crossed. Respect is still intact in their morals and groups had been forming out of those rowdy people who thirst for a good fight. Some thought it was a good thing, at least they would start picking fights with someone willing, and no one will be blamed for the damage done since both parties consented.

 

He had seen a fight like that before, and to be honest, more than anything, Koujaku seeing such happening made him want to learn fighting too. Seeing the smiles in those people’s faces after winning a good fight, the team’s bonds; Koujaku has never seen such relationship in a group where leaders treat their subordinates as their equal, and vice-versa. Instead of instilling fear in their members, they use friendship, and they get more than respect for it: admiration.

 

It was truly beautiful.

 

Koujaku was told kids like him are not allowed to join in teams yet, though, so he just comes to their meeting place and hang outs with the neighbourhood kids.

 

\---

 

It was noon. The sun was up high in the skies, and there are no clouds to be seen, so they were sweating and fanning themselves as they walk around the neighbourhood looking for something fun to do.

 

A kid started whining about the heat and demanded they look for a shade and stop by for a while, so they did.

 

A turn of his head, and Koujaku found a perfect place. He called everyone’s attention and pointed at it, voicing his suggestion only to be confused why the kids’ faces warped in an emotion he can’t understand.

 

“You can’t be serious!”

 

“What is wrong with you?”

 

“That’s not a good joke, Koujaku!”

_What’s wrong?_

 

Is what his face said at that time upon hearing their responses. He just doesn’t understand. What is so bad with that place? No one seems to live in the house and its condition is a dead giveaway it was abandoned. His friends enjoy hanging out in abandoned places, so what is so bad with this one that they reacted to badly at it?

 

Koujaku asked them.

 

They just exchanged glances at each other, silently asking for permission. For what, Koujaku is not sure.

 

One of them received the look they were looking for, took a deep, defeated sigh.

 

He approached a confused Koujaku, wrapped an arm around his shoulders and dragged him in front of the abandoned house’s rusty gate. They stood so close koujaku feared the rust may get caught in his kimono---he doesn’t want his mother to scold him for getting it stained---but far enough that their feet weren’t standing beyond the gate.

 

They told him why.

 

There’s this popular story in the island.

 

It is about that very house, the house they were looking at at that moment.

 

People said that the house was cursed.

 

A family used to live there. They were happy and content, but for some unknown reason, the members started going missing one by one. No one knows what happened to them, its just that the next thing they know, the house was abandoned.

 

No one bothered to enter the house and check. They can easily say that it is indeed empty now with its condition. No one has seen anyone leave or tend to it. The family just vanished.

 

They said it was because the house itself was cursed. No one knows how, but it just is.

 

People swear they hear voices calling out to them if they were to walk past it alone.

 

The voice was truly irresistible, and a number of people were lured to it before. Those who were lured were never seen again.

 

Of course, a lot thought this was just some prank older kids came up with to get their parents off their cases where they pretend they’re missing and go off somewhere for days so adults tried entering the house. They were fine if they manage to get out before dark, but it was a very hard thing to do. Those who actually got out said it was like a labyrinth inside. The rooms and hallways seems like they shift and change, you would definitely get lost. Some said they feel eyes on them inside. There’s a presence that feels like it doesn’t want them there but no matter how much they want to leave, the house seems like it doesn’t want them to.

 

Those who failed to leave though, were never seen again. People said that as long as you managed to leave before the clock strikes six, you’re safe. But lose track of time and get lost inside, you are forever doomed to stay in there forever. Trapped and unable to get out. Your voice will be used by the house itself to lure others like you, and the cycle repeats.

 

The house eats people.

 

That is what the parents tell their kids at night so they wouldn’t go playing in there. Everywhere is fine, but keep a fair distance away from the house.

 

Every kid in the residential district knows the story. Koujaku was excused because he grew up in the mainland, so they forgave him afterwards.

 

In the end of the day, when the group disbanded to head home, they firmly told him that whatever happens, he should not step foot in the premises.

 

It is for koujaku's safety.

 

He just thought it was ridiculous though.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The house, the house the kids are afraid of, the house they told him to never enter, the house that eats people.
> 
> The house.
> 
> He’s inside the house.

It was noon. The sun was up high in the skies, and there are no clouds to be seen. It was incredibly hot that Koujaku brought his umbrella with him for protection as he walk down the streets.

His mother had the day off and she asked him to run an errand for her.

Koujaku decided he would not meet up with the kids today just so he can spend the day with her. And now she asked him to run an errand for him and he was more than happy to follow.

The fastest route was this street---the street where he discovered the house, the house the kids are afraid of, the house the kids told him to never enter---and since it was so hot, he wanted to get the errand done and over with as soon as possible. He went there.

The way to the courier was easier than he thought, and despite the fact that he didn’t really care about the house or the kids’ warnings, he still made sure to get pass the house with no problems.

On the way back, though—

\---

\---a child was crying.

Koujaku immediately slowed down to a stop to stand in front of him.

The boy was probably no younger than 10, his knees are scraped and he’s occasionally rubbing at his red eyes to wipe away the tears.

Koujaku knew he could just kept on walking and ignored the child, but his wails are tearing at his heart, and flashes of his early childhood memories flood back to the surface of his mind. He wants the kid to stop crying.

So he asks.

“What’s wrong?”

The kid notices him, his crying subsides and rubs at his eyes one last time, before pointing at the house---the house the kids warned him about, the house they told him he should never enter. Never, ever---and says:

“My ball went through that house and I can’t get it…mummy will definitely get mad!”

And he starts crying again. Harder than last time.

Koujaku turns his head towards the house’s direction, sees the freshly shattered glass of one of its windows, and notes that it entered the house.

Its inside the house.

Its inside.

Despite the nagging voices of the kids in the back of his head, he turns back to the crying child, and smiles.

He twists his wrist, the umbrella resting on his shoulder spinning, and tells the kid that he’ll get it for him.

Just so he stops crying.

And so he enters.

The house, the house the kids are afraid of, the house they told him to never enter, the house that eats people.

The house.

He’s inside the house.

Koujaku doesn’t remember how he got in, but he’s in.

He can see the interior. He can touch them if he wanted to, maybe.

Inside, he thought he can understand why the kids fear this house.

The house hasn’t eaten him yet, though.

Yet.

He thought maybe it was a good thing, cause a crying kid outside wants his ball, and he promised he’ll get it back for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the short chapter  
> but since school just ended for me, faster updates, on like, all my fics, yay  
> ahahahh


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> update: I am so stupid someone please go stab me now  
> how can I forget this part urgh *kicks self*

Koujaku gulps, and then raises a foot and steps into the house’s---what it looks like---living room.

Testing the waters, he taps the floor with his foot, as how one would test a hanging bridge’s sturdiness before walking on it, because that’s exactly what it feels like right then. As if the house’s interior---living room---would suddenly crash back into something that is not what his eyes are telling him at the moment.

Because how can a house so old---and abandoned at that---can look something so simple, so normal?

It’s as if someone actually lives in here.

Even the broken windows he saw when he was outside seems like a faraway dream. The windows in here were even decorated with yellow curtains.

When a couple of taps did nothing to dissolve the view, he completely stepped in.

“Uh, hello?”

Somehow, Koujaku forgot that this a man-eating house, and maybe calling out for someone could wake the---maybe---sleeping predator and so he calls.

Maybe someone is actually living in here, and whatever kind of magic or technology---or even witchcraft---they used, they’re doing a good job.

It can also be that the house is indeed alive, and is currently feeding Koujaku wrong information about its interior so it can lure him to enter deeper. So it can eat him, like what the kids told him.

Either way, again, he called out. For someone.

Anything, even.

He doesn’t understand why he’s doing it instead of making a run for it while he still can---like how any regular person would at this point---but his instincts told him---which were never wrong---something will happen if he does. At least, it was nothing bad.

Nothing bad for someone not regular like him, anyway.

* * *

“Who are you?”

He heard a voice.

It was small, it was meek; if he was not imagining things, he could say it also had a hint of tears behind it.

The voice comes from behind him, where a staircase lies. Koujaku can make out a silhouette of a child, maybe a few years younger than him—actually, they look a bit close to the boy who lost his ball.

Koujaku knows something is definitely wrong with the house the moment he stepped in, but to get an actual proof of seeing a living being inside who could be residing in this place did not seem to raise warning flags in his head.

He decides to follow his instincts.

“Hello,” he said, waving an arm and makes his body language as approachable as possible.

A bucket of regret washed over him when he saw the silhouette flinch further into the back of the stairs. The child must be not too fond of new people then.

“My name is Kouajku, I’m just wondering if you noticed something that could’ve broken in your house, maybe a few minutes ago? Something like a ball, perhaps?”

He got silence.

_This is awkward_ , his mind supplied.

Koujaku thought it was easier to talk to someone he could see, but at least he knows he’s not entirely making an idiot of himself since the silhouette is yet to leave.

The awkwardness came over him in strong waves, the feeling actually made him nauseous he wants to leave the place already and hope the darkness made the child have a clear view of his face, to save him the embarrassment. Its kind of funny though: a scary, man-eating house he can handle. Inside a room with a child with filled with awkward tension, he’ll be bolting to the door before you know it.

“I just need to get the ball then I’ll leave, I promise.” He tries again. If he gets no answer, then he’ll run to the door, and away from the kid waiting for his ball. He’ll feel sorry later when he get home, and hope he’ll never see the kid again.

His thoughts were brought to a halt when he heard something slamming on the wooden floor and he looks up to see a ball bouncing towards his way. He presumes this is the ball the kid lost. He can’t help but sigh and wipe the beading sweat on his brow as he lean down and grab the thing, muttering a grateful “thank you” under his breath.

He was about to open the door when he heard a pleading “Please don’t go,” and was surprised when small, cold hands grasped his warm one that wasn’t cradling the ball to his chest.

He looks down and instantly regrets the decision when he finally sees who is behind those stairs.

It was a little girl, and he was right---she looks like the ball’s owner’s age.

The little girl was crying.

It was a little girl, and she’s crying.

Koujaku can’t leave girls crying.

So he lets his free hand fall to his side and returns the little girl’s hold on his hand. Firmer.

He allows a smile flash across his face, turning his head a bit to the side to let his bangs slide away from his other eye and give the little girl a proper look in the eyes.

“What’s wrong, little girl? Where are your parents?”

The little girl did not seem to notice his smile and shake her head vigorously at his question. Her hands started to shake in his and he had to strain his ears to hear what she was saying because her voice was so low and its as if talking is too hard for her throat.

“Grandma…”

“Hmm?”

“My Grandma…she said she’ll be back soon, but its already…”

The wails started.

“Hey, hey! There’s no need to cry about that…”

He tries to get her hands around his off, but her hold only grows stronger. He knows he can easily rip her hold off, but he doesn’t want to hurt her so he bends his knees and gets on her level. He puts the hand she’s holding on her shoulder, and the action makes her hold grow slack and slide towards his arm. She’s not really planning on letting him go.

Koujaku takes a deep breath through his nose, and talks to her in the calmest voice he’s got. “Maybe she just got caught on her work or something, she couldn’t leave you,”

“But what if,” she sniffs. She looks like she’s about to scream.

“Trust me, she will. No one could ever leave their family behind, right?”

“But,”

“Trust me, okay…uh,” He didn’t know her name.

She must’ve understood his pause, because she scrunched her brows and glared at the ground.

“Aoba.”

“Ah, okay, Ao…ba…?” Wait, isn’t that a boy’s name?

“I’m Aoba.”

The topic flew off his head when the little mentioned she’s an Aoba, so all he could do at that moment was dumbly nod his head at her.

She moves her glare to his face, and with the sternest voice a crying child could muster, she said, ”I’m a boy!” Her last word was a scream, and the scream must’ve been overwhelming for her throat because she started crying again.

Koujaku makes some startled noises and brought by panic, the only solution his brain gave for him was to hug her tight and pat her back.

“Ahahahahaha! Yep! Aoba’s a boy! He’s a boy! Boy! You’re a boy, of course you are!”

Another wrong decision because the hug increased Koujaku’s physical contact with her and now she’s grabbing him too tight than normal.

“Please don’t leave me here alone!”

“Aoba, please, I promise you won’t be alone!”

He said it as a moment-kind-of thing, and he was surprised to feel the hold on his grow slack and away immediately.

He cracks his eyes that he unconsciously closed and sees the boy, Aoba, stand in front of him, tears gone. His eyes doesn’t look like he even cried for a long time, even.

“You promise to stay with me then?”

The question somehow made him pause. Warning bells started ringing in his head violently for once ever since he stepped foot into the premises.

He was still on his knees so he can talk to Aoba eye to eye, but he straightens himself to properly observe the other before he responds “Stay with you?”

He nods, “Always.”

He runs his tongue across the back of his bottom lip, then swallows. Something feels off with the question.

He needs to think of his answer properly, or something bad may truly happen to him.

Aoba patiently waits for him, and he shows no expression whatsoever when Koujaku finally does.

“But I need to go home now.”

Koujaku thinks its better to leave it vague, a no would definitely be not welcome. He doesn’t want to see what will happen if he did, because there’s no way he’ll stay in this place. He heard the story. About the people entering the house. Getting lured.

His thoughts stop.

He gives the ball on the ground that fell from his arm when Aoba hugged him back a look from the corner of his eyes.

Was he lured here?

He rolls his eyes back to Aoba, his expression still blank. He doesn’t seem bothered with his answer so far.

But how far until he would be?

He can feel his blood start to run cold.

Aoba opens his mouth.

 

%MCEPASTEBIN%

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I's raining p hard, I hope its hard enough to cancel classes I don't wanna wake up in 2 hours from now ugh


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATING TO COVER UP THE ERROR I MADE THAT HAS BEEN LYING THERE FOR A FUCKING MONTH GODDAMMIT
> 
> ALSO THIS CHAPS IS UNBETA'D BECAUSE I HAVEN'T EVEN REREAD THE ENTIRE THING I'M SO SORRY FOR THE ERRORS BUT ENJOY
> 
> YES I AM SCREAMING

_He rolls his eyes back to Aoba, his expression still blank. He doesn’t seem bothered with his answer so far._

_But how far until he would be?_

_He can feel his blood start to run cold._

_Aoba opens his mouth._

“Tomorrow?”

“Huh?” was his well-thought answer. This was not what Koujaku was expecting to get.

Aoba’s face remained impassive.

“Will you come stay with me tomorrow?”

Koujaku didn’t know what to say.

He carefully worded out his thoughts, “I can’t do that, Aoba.”

Aoba’s eyebrows scrunched together in an expression Koujaku cannot decipher whether it was confusion or upset.

“…Will you come back tomorrow?”

He swallows again.

Then slowly nods.

He just wanted to go home now.

Go home and never look---

“Will you promise me?”

\---back.

“I promise.”

“I’ll wait for you, then.”

He nods at him.

“Yeah. Do that.”

_What is he doing_? His mind screamed protests.

Aoba’s face brightens into a warm smile---that of a temporary farewell.

He flinches when he hears something creak behind him. It was the front door opening, which was strange, because he remembers barely twisting the knob.

He looks back at Aoba who raises an arm in a wave, somewhat reluctant, “See you, Koujaku.”.

He nods and stands up; shrugging off imaginary dust off his kimono as he slowly makes his way outside. He didn’t bother taking the ball with him. His gut tells him he doesn’t need to anymore.

He walks out of the house, never looking back at the boy waving him goodbye.

The next thing he knows, he’s already outside the house, standing in front of its rusting gate, staring at its rotting handle, his hold on his umbrella tightening into a grip that his knuckles turned white.

He looks around him and was not surprised to not see the kid waiting for his ball.

He walks home.

At home, he get’s scolded by his mother for going home late. It was a little bit past six when he got home.

Koujaku takes note of the time.

\---

Koujaku chose not to return to the house the day after, and the day after that, too.

Or what he told himself, because he it was an early afternoon and he ditches his friends again to go stand in front of the cursed house he promised days ago he would never return to.

He keeps on telling himself he doesn’t have a lick of an idea what he is doing in there at that moment, but deep inside, a voice was telling him otherwise. He hisses at it to shut up, and buries the voice down, down, down, deep into his mind. Hoping it’ll never resurface again.

Because what the voice was saying was ridiculous.

He does not have such thoughts, because only cowards who cry only think like that.

A blink and he sees darkness, then a child---a few years younger than him whose face horribly resembles him. The child was on the ground, clutching his belly. The pain and the feeling of helplessness makes it hard for the little boy and his endurance hits its limit. His small form that became smaller as he curls into himself on the floor starts shaking as he sobs, tears and snot dirties his face. He sees in his peripherals the way his father sneers at his pathetic self and he cries more. Whether it was from anger or frustration or maybe both, he does not know anymore. So many emotion happened at the same time at that moment and all he felt like doing as he writhes in pain when a strong kick aimed at his middle again was to cry. Cry and sob like the pathetic thing he is, his father says.

Another blink and Koujaku was back in the present.

He’s no longer the snivelling coward his father used to call him, and he’s standing in front of the house to prove it. He’ll show the old bastard who’s the real bastard here.

He looks at the ground and thinks about how he should do this.

Just, knock and call out to him or should he just open the gate and enter with no warning? But won’t that be disrespectful? But then again, this house is no ordinary Japanese home, so maybe formalities does not matter in this case? How did he enter the house again the first time?

“Koujaku!”

A small, meek voice called out, not too far away from where he was standing called out his name and it breaks his string of thoughts. The voice was louder than last time, but he can still distinguish its owner without looking up to see who it is.

Its Aoba.

Its definitely him.

He proves himself right the moment he looks up and looks towards the gate---that was now opened--- that leads to the front door of the house. There just right outside the main door’s entrance, was the enigma of the house, his face flushed and a small smile decorating his face as he had both his arms wide open---as if permitting Koujaku to go jump to his arms and never let go.

“Koujaku! You came back! I’ve been waiting for you, what took you so long?”

Koujaku gulps.

He had been stalling, to be honest.

The fact that this child is here and real scares him.

He does not know what this child can do so far but he’s not willing to risk more people falling victim to this curse---be the disappearances true or not. He’s willing to sacrifice himself, if that’s what it costs it. No more innocent people had to fall into this horrible trap.

He notices how Aoba does nothing but smile and reach out his hands at him. He’s not doing anything to approach him at all. If Aoba wants him that badly, then why isn’t he rushing towards him by now?

He glances down at Aoba’s feet and confirms the child is not losing a limb or two. He was completely standing on the concrete but not stepping out of the house. Why is he not stepping out of the house?

“Koujaku!”

Koujaku jumps. That voice…he gulps again.

It was different, the voice. What is that?

He tells himself he’s doing this to learn more about the house. He’s doing this for the greater good. He’s helping everyone. The moment he finds a weakness about this so-called curse, he’ll end it.

There is just something strong and sinister that lurks within the little boy that looks at him with that strange light in his yellow eyes that seemed to glow under the afternoon light. Something sinister and not so innocent at all.

Whatever Aoba is, he’s going to stop him.

So he smiles and laughs, apologizes for taking it so long for him to come back and visit him. He tells Aoba that he’s got so much errands to do his mother won’t let him leave the house.

The way Aoba’s eyes suddenly loose it’s childish, innocent sheen as he listened to Koujaku’s supposed nagging about his mother brought shivers down Koujaku’s spine.

He decides topics regarding his mother are a no-no unless he wants to never see her again.

\---

Aoba patiently watches him as he takes a slow, cautious step into the house, this time having the memories of actually stepping in.

The moment both his feet are firmly settled on the hard wooden floor, his back slams on the closed door behind him as Aoba’s weight pushed at him as he was hugged tightly by a ten year-old in the brink of tears.

“I thought you’ll never come back,” he heard him say.

\---

Aoba tells him that he can go to whichever part of the house he fancies, but never---he said with emphasis---ever enter the last room in the end of the hallway upstairs. He asks why, but Aoba says he just can’t.

After that, they play.

They play a lot of games; usually hide-and-seek, but they also play tag and wrestling. Koujaku always wins at wrestling and playing tag, but Aoba is better at hiding. Koujaku muses that its because Aoba knows the house at the back of his hands and his small figure.

One time they were playing hide-and-seek again and Koujaku was the one who seeks. He swears he’s been looking around the house everywhere but Aoba is nowhere to be found. He almost pulls his hair in frustration, his patience can only run for so long.

He was about to scream in frustration he sees the last door at the end of the hallway in the second floor. He remembers Aoba that it was off-limits.

Despite that, he thinks, could Aoba be hiding in there?

He remembers the grim expression Aoba made the time he was being told how he should never ever enter the room, as much as even approach it. It’s just forbidden and Aoba refused to relay anymore details than that.

But then, he reasons to himself, Aoba is nowhere else to be found.

He stands there for a minute, then angrily stomps down to the first floor and re-checks everything.

He comes back to the end of the hallway, panting, for running around the house researching every nook and cranny looking for the little boy, but failed and tells himself again---the logical one---that this is the last place he have yet to check.

There is no point in announcing his defeat out loud---Aoba hated quitters.

So he steps towards it, surprised at himself for the lack of feeling guilty or nervous for breaking a rule.

He was about to grab the door knob that shines a shiny gold, as if tempting him to hold it in his hands and twist it open when he hears a snarl not too far behind him.

He stills, and then he slowly turns his head.

He gasped at the sight.

A man was standing not too far from him, his eyes white due to the absence of the pupils and his mouth shaped into a snarl as his teeth that was too long it looks like a set of fangs---like that of a wolf---was bared for him to see and fear upon.

It appears to be angry and growling, its gaze focused on only him.

It roars and runs towards him, fast.

But Koujaku was faster.

He managed to slip under the space of the man’s feet and made a swift run for it.

The rest blurs and all that mattered after that was that he was on the ground, facing the house’s opened entrance, panting like a dog as he takes one shuddering breath and another. He waits for the beastly man to come running towards him, he’s readying himself to run again if the situation arises and decides that after this he’ll never come back. A week of playing house with a creature like Aoba who manipulated the house into his little play house was not an information enough to destroy whatever it is Aoba is.

He closes his eyes, body trembling and aching. The sudden run must’ve stretched his muscles, the adrenalin pumped into his system the only reason he was out of the horrible place in a matter of minutes when he hears it.

The growling. He opens his eyes to see the man-beast crouching low by the door, his pupil-less gaze focused on Koujaku intently. He emanates the air of murder, but doesn’t seem to do anything to run towards him with his claws open and bare.

Just exactly like Aoba a few days ago.

He realizes something, and thinks about testing his theory. He gulps and with trembling legs, he slowly raises himself up and moves to approach the snarling being when Koujaku stops in his tracks.

The beast snarling at him moments ago was gone, and strangely enough, the person standing by the door was replaced with a crying Aoba.

He was sobbing the moment Koujaku falls on his knees again, his shaking legs gave out right away due to shock. Too many shocking things are happening in front of Koujaku at the same time it was too much for his young head---and body----it seems.

“I told you not to enter the room,” he manages to say in his sobs. He was shaking harder than Koujaku.

Koujaku’s legs are still too weak to help him stand, he resort to crawling on his hands and knees to get to the crying boy. He kneels and holds him, tight and sniffs his blue hair that smells like something he can never tell but sweet and horribling familiar nonetheless and comforts the boy with words.

Aoba cries louder and hugs him tighter. Making him promise never to enter the room again.

He promises that he’ll never ever do that anymore, and they play again, like nothing big happened until the clock stroke six.

Koujaku came everyday to come play with Aoba from then on.

And a few more days with him, Koujaku hated to say that he actually enjoyed Aoba’s company.

But he’ll be lying if he didn’t either now, is he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE A LOT TO DO BECAUSE ITS ALMOST THE MIDDLE OF MY SEMESTER AND I HAVE LIKE 6 EXAMS  
> I HAVE AN EXAM TODAY AND I HAVEN'T SLEPT YET  
> I NEED TO BE UP 4 HRS FROM NOW  
> GOD HELP ME


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mark of a new beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has been sitting in my drive for god-knows how long. It seems that I forgot to update...again OTL
> 
> WARNING; UNBETA'ed

Koujaku presumed everything is okay again.

Well, he can pretend that everything is okay again, that is.

Fate hated him and his mother, and the next thing he knows, they were boarding a ship back to the mainland, with a promise to never return to the island anymore.

His father's wife cannot bear children, and being a head of a yakuza family, he needs an heir to take over his place. Although Koujaku's mother is merely a mistress, he sought them out and demanded Koujaku's custody.

Koujaku's father is a powerful man, both in terms of the hierarchy and physical strength. He used to beat Koujaku until the boy quiets down and could barely lift a finger. He does this a lot whenever Koujaku seeks out his father's help whenever his mother gets hurt by his father's wife, blaming her for her inability to bear his father a son. He was grateful when they managed to leave the country and move somewhere faraway, to escape from everything and try to start over, but it seems that they weren't really far enough, for his father to manage to find them and force them back into the compound.

The moment he saw the man next to his father, he knew his fate was sealed.

Ryuuho was the man's name; he remembered hearing his father say. He is a talented man and his father was truly thankful for Ryuuho's acceptance of his request.

 _Request?_ , Koujaku asked himself.

It was as if Ryuuho can read minds, he turned his fox-like grin towards him, and said in a cheerful voice, "Yep. Please let's get along, Koujaku-san."

The tone was cheerful and rather friendly, but there was something dark swimming in those eyes that made him feel uneasy all throughout the rest of the introductions.

* * *

 

It's common knowledge that yakuzas bear tattoos.

Either to make your affiliation be known, or be it your rank or reputation. If Koujaku will take over his father's business one day, he should bear one as well. That is why Ryuuho's presence that day was essential.

He's a talented man when it comes to tattoos. They say his art is extraordinary-out of this world. He does things in his own pace, and he doesn't set up shop. He works whenever he fancies and he doesn't accept reservations. His fee is also costly, but nevertheless, people still pursue him due to that talent of his. His father, a prideful man, wanted Ryuuho's work on his son's back for the very reasons and sought the man, offering him a great sum of money in exchange for his services. Ryuuho agreed, much to his delight.

Everything went spiralling down after that.

The sensation of the inked needle prickling his skin was overwhelming, he lost his composure and bit into his arm to muffle his screams of pain. Ryuuho definitely heard his cries but merely laughed in a way so different from how he used to in front of his father and everyone else and pressed the needles deeper, much to Koujaku's despair.

"Children are so bearing. A grown man would've fainted from this pain," Koujaku chose to remain silent as he listens to the man muse to himself, or so he thought.

Silence filled the room.

"and my needle is deeper than usual, hm?" Ryuuho pressed the needle hard into his skin again. The pain was intense he had to bite harder into his arm to stop himself from screaming, lest he worry his mother who is just waiting outside.

Koujaku was convinced he was an open book to the man as he heard him chuckle.

The pressure of the needle on his back was gone, and Ryuuho was up shuffling through his tools a little bit farther from where he lay when he spoke once again.

"You know, I just took this job because your father asked me at first," said Ryuuho as Koujaku listened to the sounds of small clinking of metal on ceramic. "That changed when I saw you. I could've done it for free."

A small thud on the wooden floor next to him, Koujaku braced himself for another round of pain.

"Do you know why?" The temperature in the room drops. Koujaku bites into his arm again, and he started breathing hard through his nose, the pain worse than before.

"The look in your eyes when you look at your father-eyes flowing with raw hatred for him. Such deep hatred is actually a deep love on the inside."

 _Deep love?_ He mentally cringes in disgust.

Ryuuho doesn't act affected in any way and adds, "Love and hatred are just two sides of a coin, you see."

"I knew you were a sweet, reliable child raised with affection. I knew with just one look."

His smile can be felt through the mirth dancing in his voice right then. "Don't you hate your father? Not just that, but you detest him."

"Is it because…"

Koujaku winces as the needle drags along his skin as Ryuuho drags his word. And then pauses, the pain subsides a little.

"...of you mother?" Ryuuho was smiling wickedly as he watches his body stiffen and let his throat let out a growl. He continues as if he never noticed the reaction he pulls out of the boy below him.

"Your father's real wife can't bear children, your mother was his mistress, and you were chosen as the successor. His wife just couldn't stomach it and gave your mother quite the grief."

He shakes his head in sympathy but there's none in his voice or expression. It is simply to mock him.

"She even burnt her." Ryuuho is obviously trying to muffle his own laughter, as if deriving joy from it. From Koujaku's temper or his mother's suffering, he can't tell, but either way, it rubs him in the wrong way. All he wanted is this man's silence and this entire session to end already.

Month after month, every session, Ryuuho never failed to make small talks, mostly about how much Koujaku's fate was cursed. Every single time he wished for Ryuuho's death for it. For his father's. For making their lives a living hell.

Ryuuho was used to his occasional growls and continued. "But your father pretended not to see, and no matter how much you begged, he just beat you instead."

"I haven't heard it all, but you're being forced into taking on his crest as his son. Proof that you're the successor." He paused and gave his unfinished work a once-over, smiling at his masterpiece in progress. "You've led quite an interesting life, haven't you?"

Ryuuho's smile drops when he hears Koujaku mumble, his face pressed into the pillows under him.

"Hm?"

"I said," A pant, before Koujaku raises himself enough to expose his face and turn to Ryuuho and lock his red eyes with him, fiery with hatred and resolve.

"I said shut up and keep drawing!"

Ryuuho can't say he was not amazed.

When red eyes left him, he heard the boy growl deep from his throat, "You devil!"

He lost it.

He laughed. The loudest he ever did.

"As I thought, my eyes weren't wrong. You're just like I thought you were."

His laughs were darker and filled with malice this time, as he continues and dig his needles hard into Koujaku's back, he whispers into his ears, "Keep nurturing it in your body. Accept every possible thing that happens from now on. Store it and nourish it…"

The pain was enough to make Koujaku's sight grow dark for the first time under Ryuuho's hands.

Another press, another pain, the burning sensation of the ink sinking and spreading into his back, and then his world turned black.

_"Remember this well. This pain as I carve out your soul."_

* * *

 

The moment he wakes up, it was with a gasp.

He was standing in the rain, his top exposed and displays the tattoos Ryuuho left on him.

In his hand was a sword.

Despite the heavy pelts of the rain, everything was silent.

It could be explained due to the dead bodies of his family lying on the ground around him.

The first thing that catches him was panic, then fear. What came in next was his heavy footsteps back into the house and into the room where his mother used to be in as she waits for his session to end.

At the sight of the ruined room he felt his blood run cold. There is no sign of his mother, but this was not enough to calm his raging heart. There's blood everywhere. Scattered on the walls and floor and ceiling. Despite the red, he managed to spot it.

He remembers the day he got it for her as a gift, He remembers the smile his mother had that time, as she used it immediately to hold her hair the day she got it from him. Koujaku knew the days saving his allowance was worth it, even if he'll only get to see her smile like this once. It was worth it.

Those memories was instantly washed away by the blood of her mother drenching the pin wet as it lies on the floor, not too far from where her mother's unrecognizeable body lay.

The image of her torn body churned his insides and he felt sick.

He puts a hand over his lips to stop himself from throwing up right in front of her corpse. He pauses.

Blood.

There's blood in his hands. Both of them.

Looking down, his whole body is covered in blood. His kimono was wet and soggy and sticky with blood moistened by the rain.

It didn't take a while for Koujaku to put two and two together.

He screamed.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are you guys still here?

**Author's Note:**

> supposed to be a long-ass one shot but this part seems like it can stand by itself so I'll split it into parts.
> 
> now, I got a prelab to do.


End file.
